In truth, he is a hollowed servant-carcass into which a golden devil has jammed its chaotic bulk — or perhaps a lobotomized servant who has co-opted the cerebrospinal system of an imprisoned golden devil.

The question is as moot as whether the philosopher was a man dreaming of butterflies or a butterfly dreaming of men. Either way, the beast Praman Nand is, and we defy him at our peril.

“Love may forgive all infirmities and love still in spite of them; but Love cannot cease to will their removal. Love is more sensitive than hatred itself to every blemish in the beloved…Of all powers he forgives most, but he condones least; he is pleased with little, but demands all.”

Can one truly lie in the face of god? We are the lie yis tells un, or un tells yis. We are the lie that there is no Yisun. Can a fiction spout a fiction? Can a story tell itself to it’s author? I for one have never managed to be surprised at the twist endings of my own stories. Nor have i once believed a lie one of my characters told, even if they had convinced themselves. But then again, my ouvre is mostly made up of Diem based slashfiction. So maybe i’m just not trying hard enough to believe my own lies

Your reach outpaces your grasp, friend angel. It is important to start with lesser lies, more generally agreed on in their superiority to the mundane universe. As an example, consider that the world where a humble merchant’s hands can twist into magma-edged razor talons when an impudent sellsword draws steel on him is far more intriguing than the alternative.

There are many heresies that have sprung from similar question, and while each of them are fascinating, I will focus on the Heresy of YISUN the Successor.

To answer your question, one can only truly lie to the face of god, or indeed spit in it, if you yourself are TRUE, else, you would lie falsely. But how can one be TRUE when YISUN, the creator, is a liar and you but his words? You cannot, thus YISUN must not be creator, but successor.

Dronral the Thrice Condemned first proposed this dreadful philosophy, and for it was executed on no fewer than a dozen occasions, with some sources claiming he met his demise over four score times in the course of a millenium. He put forth that there was once a world of TRUTH, where no Art could shift the nature of things, where all was of perfect form and was in accord with its nature. YISUN, he contends, was the perfect and TRUE form of division, and was inspired by the beauty He saw in this world to try His hand at creation. As His nature, was division, not creation, He failed miserably, and in a terrible rage, shattered the TRUE world. Beholding what crime He had committed in His rage, YISUN turned his division inward, and split His own TRUTH, and became YIS and UN, both liars. With this broken TRUTH, they formed the shattered remains of the TRUE world into the realm of lies we now inhabit. Dronral therefore characterizes discovering and reconstructing these fragments of TRUTH, an act known as the Craft of Mending, as undoing the sins of God.

Thus, one who had assembled in themselves a TRUE existence, an exercise that would take uncountable years, as the TRUTH can only be revealed through meticulously unraveling the many layers of lies that compose the world, such a person could TRULY lie to the face of god, and in doing so attain that same false godhood to which YISUN has laid claim.

All accounts of Dronral’s many executions make a point of how incredibly painful they were.

Art is pain! Fanfiction is exercise threatened by exorcists! A dry author’s quill is like a volcano cursed to never usher magma’s ascent again: An undeniable good, with one victim, with apocalyptic consequences. I would be more specific on that future, but blindness is only a blessing for moles and fish. I am not a mole nor have I found anyone using chocolate bait on their hooks.

It is a civic duty to write fanfiction! Improve and contribute and one day we shall earn a place in the library of congress, staining it like an unidentified white subtance.

I think you’re quite mistaken, fellow Inheritor.
Mayaand Cio don’t need any key of Kings. Their power is (or used to be, in Cio’s case) far more greater than what a Key of King can offer.

In my good ol’times, when the Demiurges first entered Throne, I came back hastily from the edge of the Void, where I was fighting Devils, to Throne.
There, I witnessed with my eyes seven hundred Kings with shining leystones, all mastering the Art of Cutting, all wearing no Keys, as Zoss was still dealing with the Prime Angels.
I was out of breath. Indeed, how, how could it be that Perceivers held such an immense power, the power of the Gods? For a brief moment, I felt disgust towards the Law which limits us Angels so much.
Now, in the present days, I know the Law is not a curse, but a benediction of YISUN themselves.

It is interesting to go back an recognize elements that didn’t hold any meaning at the time.

Considering his high profile and fixed base of operations, one assumes that Praman Nand is a proper Magister, and not a key thief. Considering that Cio has history with both of them, one assumes that he is sworn to the Dragon.

Ahh marriage. This most peculiar institution crops up all over the multiverse. I take its ubiquity as one of the more intriguing examples of the twin drives of the offspring of YISUN. All things are driven to Divide and Unite: to Cut and to Heal.

The resolving of marital strife, resulting in a closer and more fulfilling union between partners, is one of the more common ways for healers to earn some coin and is somewhat of a specialty of mine. I look forward to analyzing the soon to be revealed relationships.

Yes! And that is when things truly get bad. As the public intrest wanes, both sides have to come up with ever more ingenious ways to spark enthousiasmfor their cause. I heard of a tiny handed orange toned devil once who apearantly did quite well by spouting hatefull rhetoric and making debauched statements. I’m not quite shure if he got his conquest, but if i remember correctly he had quite the short temper (he’d send out messenger birds ’till deep in the night to tweet his hatefull messages to whoever invoked his wrath) so i would not be surprised if he did

The Historians’ Guild appreciates the respect, Preem Krieg, but in that awkward way that you appreciate someone complimenting you on something you have never done and also will never do. It is a poor historian who does not fall in desperate, unrequited love with their subject.

Always embarrassing when the love turns out to be requited, though. The Grand Enemy is ever the worst authority on itself, and offering it editorial control tends to make the story embarrasing garbage.

Such is the nature of all Chroniclers. Unlike the Historian, who is interested in being as accurate as possible to their knowledge, the Chronicler will not just describe what happened, but what they think SHOULD have happened.

They really should arrange a watch. They’ll get jumped by sky-pirates, all this time they’re spending lollygagging in the bowels of the ship. Have they even furled the sails, or is the ship going to keep going until it collides with something, like another ship, or a flock of demons, or the edge of the sky?

I suspect that Cio’s ‘real name’, even in her mysterious stranger persona, should properly begin with “Mrs.”

That she views this state of marital bliss as a curse is of some consequence.

I find that this revelation of her marital status also sheds light on her domestic proclivities. We have never seen the little blue lady settle down without the creature comforts close at hand.

The pleasure of the cookfire, simmering a delicacy. The presence of a lamp and comfortable seating with snuggly covers. The pleasures of a fine smoke and drink, the scent of herbs. These are all things that delight, soothe, and comfort not only her troubled Ebon soul but those she makes company with.

I find her fascinating, a finely crafted entity at least on a par with our Confused Godking and Anguished Angel. I suspect the story and character of our two newest members in the Kings Court will be just as fine.

At their essence, devils are made of the secrets that unmake the Universe. Imbibing the liquor does not so much teach one many languages as it whispers the secrets that break The Barrier of Language. Likewise; fueled with the devil liquor, an engine does not gain the power to fly; but rather it briefly knows how to break The Law of Physics.

These secrets are not particularly limited in what they can or cannot unmake, but one must be careful when pushing the envelope, lest you learn the secret that unmakes yourself.

Could it be that devils are made of that ultimate essence antithetical to this universe of lies: Truth?! Long thought to be a myth, could it have been hiding under our noses this whole time? Its very presence unmakes what ever it happens to lite upon as you have so eloquently described. Much pondering remains to be done. ……..mutter mutter with a capital T no less! mutter mutter……

someone once postulated that Cio’s introduction as a “fanfiction writer” was merely a translation convention- meaning her use of the Art and how this is lying to the face of god, writing her own reality instead of the extant one, and enforcing it.

Oh please- it’s not that bad. I assure you that at least 90% of the people who read webcomics have at least though about self-insert fanfiction, and I’m sure there’s a hefty number who have actually dabbled in it from time to time.

Maybe she wasnt a Blue when they first were married? I am speculating of course. The idea of the physical intimacy mortals and some devils enjoy is lost on my kind for anything but pure speculative purposes. Pouring two living flames of creation together into one vessel? It would most certainly rupture.

My good fellow, tis I, JAWIS-TEL, singer of songs, teller of tales. Bard of the great atheneum.
This, the great place from which I was taught, is where you will find such tales of future, past, current, and perhaps never at all.

Oh, this is getting sooo good. Nothing is worse than someone reading your writing before it’s ready. I love watching Cio squirm. I hate myself for loving it. And these pages trickle in so slowly. I love every excruciating moment.

You should be more careful about the exact wording: a rising king has not yet risen: if she succumbs to the last obstacle, she will have never won. Furthermore, it’s not just a question of her companion’s health, but which shape Al-Yis-Un will decide to cut herself into. Will she bring a dream of justice to Throne and the multiverse, or only more war and despair?

This might not be the case. The title of the writer is “Pangoxes, Meta-historian of the Retroactive Record Monks”. The inclusion of “Meta’ and “Retroactive” in their title prevent them from being totally reliable sources.

But even if it is the case, this is hardly surprising. Aside from having multiple individuals with future sight saying that she goes out and overthrows the system, so we already have a strong evidence that she is “fated” to succeed. That aside, a basic element of (nearly) all stories is that the hero makes it to the end of the story, whatever that ending is. Also, the difficulty, means, and cost of reaching that ending still isn’t known, so it isn’t without tension.

George R. R. Martin would like to talk to you about your theories on narrative tension, and then murder your favorite POV character.

Re the monks, they appear from the date to be writing after the events of the story, weakening the effect of their qualifiers.

Take the Mottom encounter. Many pages were spent furthering the belief that Allison was in mortal peril. But a repeat of similar events would lack similar punch, because we ‘know’ Allison makes it.
With the complication that Zaid might be the real rising King (however unlikely that might be), she was spared shielding by prophecy. But now that we ‘know’ the truth, her task is trivialized. She will triumph regardless of how she acts. She need not grow into her role or make hard choices, providence will provide, apparently. (Admittedly with the angel’s plot there exists a victory condition for Allison in which death would be preferrable, but given the omnicidal nature of that plot it probably isn’t the one the monks are writing about, as they are writing at all.)